The Remains of a Broken Heart
Once upon a gloomy February's eve, when I had just concluded reading a poignant poem by the Bard of Avon on the evanescence of an ill-fated love affair, my gaze fell upon the faint stars twinkling through London's smoke-ridden air. Each star, like the distant memory of a lost love, clung to my heart and transported my mind through time's dungeons to the depths of a chapter hitherto left unexplored.